


Not Like the Movies

by Reindrops



Category: The 100 (TV), The 100 Series - Kass Morgan
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Break Up, F/M, Happy Ending, Make Up, Post-Break Up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-09
Updated: 2018-02-09
Packaged: 2019-03-15 17:04:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13617792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reindrops/pseuds/Reindrops
Summary: Prompt: We broke up after I left and moved away, and months later I find out you rushed to the airport to stop me but you were too late.





	Not Like the Movies

Life is definitely not like the movies. Everyone knew this; Clarke knew this. That didn’t stop her from hoping that just this once- just this one time- her life might actually be like the end of one of those romantic comedies. It was an unrealistic hope, she knew. But she couldn’t stop what her heart wanted.

Clarke was through security, putting her shoes back on and getting herself resituated before she made her way towards her gate. She let herself look back out across security- across the line of people putting their luggage on the conveyor belt and walking through the metal detectors. She was hoping to see him running after her. He wasn’t. Of course, he wasn’t.

All these people were going about their lives: going on vacation, heading to a work conference, heading home. Their faces were mostly devoid of emotion, stoically going through the motions as though they’d done this a hundred times. There were a couple kids running around, giggling. Clarke was happy for the positive sounds, for that breath of happiness. But it wasn’t hers.  

With a heavy heart, she grabbed her luggage and wheeled herself to the giant screen looking at the arrival and departure times and gates to find where she needed to go. Once she found her flight and gate, she headed down the long corridor, maneuvering around all the other people coming and going. She didn’t look back.

The Arkadia Airport wasn’t big compared to most of the other big cities in the country, but it was decently sized for the area. Clarke was just thankful it had a direct flight from here to Polis. Home. Once she landed, her mother would be waiting for her on the other side. She wondered how much her mother will have changed. It had only been about a month since Clarke had last seen her at her father’s funeral.

From the many phone calls, it didn’t sound like Abby Griffin was coping very well. Clarke had spoken with Thelonious Jaha, a family friend who had told her Abby was losing weight and was an even bigger workaholic than she was before Jake Griffin passed. How could you help one person heal when you were struggling with the same issues yourself? She wasn’t sure how much of a difference Clarke would be, but she knew just being there would help.

She found her gate and thankfully didn’t have to wait too long before boarding started. As she waited in line to get her ticket scanned and for her to be pushed through to board the plane, she couldn’t stop herself from glancing behind her. She picked out several heads of curly, shaggy, dark hair, but none of them belonged to the person she was waiting for.

Scanning her ticket, Clarke allowed herself one last glance back out across the wave of people looking for a sign that she should stay. It could be anything. But nobody came, and there was nothing amiss. So, she turned and headed down the hallway and boarded her plane, finding her seat in the back next to the window.

As she made herself as comfortable as a person can on a cramped plane, she put on her headphones and leaned her head against the window, watching as the workers were throwing luggage onto the plane. It wasn’t long before everyone was finally all on board and in their seats. Blessedly, no one was sitting in the middle seat, though an old lady was sitting in the aisle seat. Not completely alone, but better than having the seat next to her filled.

Even now, as the stewardesses were walking up and down the aisles, shutting the luggage compartments and checking to make sure everyone was wearing their seatbelts, a tiny flame of hope flared in Clarke’s chest. She allowed it to burn, kindling it with thoughts of happy memories she and him had had together. There was so many to choose from. Surely, he loved her just as much as she loved him.

Only after the doors to the plane were shut and the plane was finally up into the air did that hope extinguish in her heart, and she let herself let go. She thought letting go would cause the heavy weight to have been lifted from her shoulders. Hope was a heavier burden than she had thought it would be. But the weight of sadness was even heavier, and her heart felt constricted, cold settling over her skin despite the many layers she was wearing.

Thousands of feet in the air, Clarke finally let herself let out the hurt. She curled up into herself as much as she could, facing the window and away from the rest of the people on the aircraft. She shifted so that she could use her coat as a blanket and cried softly into her shoulder.

* * *

She couldn’t even blame him. Not honestly. The situation was entirely her own doing. She had only hoped he would have resisted or asked her to stay. Instead she had been met with an indifference she didn’t know could hurt this badly. He would always have a place in her heart, right next to all the other people who had left her. The hard part was that he wasn’t the one who had left. She was.

Clarke and Octavia Blake had become friends at college through a shared interest in a self-defense class they happened to be in together. They’d meet up after class to work on the different moves they’d been taught, and before they realized what was happening, Octavia was a fixture in their group. It didn’t matter that she was a year younger than Clarke or her friends. Octavia was funny and had a big heart. 

Clarke went home with Octavia over Spring break one year, and that’s how she met him.

Bellamy Blake.

There were many words Clarke used synonymously: older brother, librarian, mother hen, leader, worrier.

There were many more adjectives to describe him: passionate, ambitious, independent, dominant, laid back, strong.

It hadn’t been love at first sight- quite the opposite. Octavia hadn’t warned her brother she was bringing anyone home, and Bellamy was not happy about the surprise. Back then, Bellamy was working several jobs to support him and his sister. Money was tight, and his stress levels were high. Clarke had overheard him talking to Octavia about how he didn’t have any extra money to spare, so the next day when they had gone grocery shopping, Clarke had tried to help and pay for it saying it was the least she could do since Bellamy was housing her for a week.

Bellamy had resolutely refused and had been tight lipped the entire car ride back to their house, making the drive much more tense filled than was necessary. Later that night while Octavia was in the shower, Bellamy had given Clarke a piece of his mind and told her to stay out of their business. Clarke had tried to explain she was only trying to help, but Bellamy insisted he didn’t need her charity.

The relationship only got worse when Octavia told her brother over supper how Clarke’s mom had been the director of medicine at the best hospital in Polis and her father had been a top engineer. It was like finding out that Clarke had rich parents ruined Bellamy’s opinion of her. She tried to explain that that money was her parents’, and the money she had she earned from her part time job.

Unfortunately, Bellamy hadn’t listed or particularly cared, and the entire stay, he had made little digs on how she must feel staying in the slums, giving her the nickname of Princess. On their last day, Clarke had had enough and let Bellamy know exactly how she had felt about him and his little jabs he was constantly making at her. She slammed the door of the house in her hurry out of the house.

Octavia had apologized on behalf of her brother and tried to explain, but that hadn’t changed how Clarke felt.  Clarke avoided being at any function that Bellamy might also be going to. She never went back to the Blake’s house, and she avoided him whenever they were in the same room together. The next time Bellamy and Clarke spoke to each other was at a New Year’s Eve party the year Octavia had graduated college, and he had apologized for his previous behavior and asked for a do-over.

Because they were going into a new year, Clarke had relented. More for Octavia’s sake than anything. She didn’t think anything would actually change between them. She’d done a good job of avoiding him until now. Why would that suddenly change?

She’d been wrong.

Soon she was seeing Bellamy at all the same functions. They bumped into each other at museums, art galleries, parties, the movies, you name it. Purely by coincidence. They had the same taste in hobbies, it seemed. The more they talked, the more they found in common. The more they hung out, the more they discovered they actually enjoyed each other’s company. Before they knew it, they were dating.

Dating Bellamy had been fun. One week, they were going to art exhibits; the next they went camping. They hosted a board game night with their friends. Other weeks, they stayed in and binged Netflix shows. They were perfectly content with each other to sit at home and just do their own things together.

Everything was perfect.

Until it wasn’t.

When her father died, it left a gaping hole in her chest she didn’t know how to fill. Of all the people who could understand, Bellamy was it. He’d lost his mother at a young age and never even knew his father. He knew loss and grief intimately. If her father’s death was the only thing she had to deal with, they probably would have been fine.

The straw that broke the camel's back happened a couple weeks later when Wells Jaha, Clarke’s best friend, was murdered by some thug in the streets. Wells’ father was mayor of Polis, and his murderer hadn’t particularly liked Mayor Jaha. To get back at the father, the son must die.

Clarke blamed her mother for her father’s death. Abby was a doctor and should have seen the signs of his decline and gotten him the help he needed. But Clarke blamed herself for Wells’ death. If she had just gone home the weekend he had died like she had said she would, he would have been with her. He would have lived. But she had stayed in Arkadia because she hadn’t wanted to go back to Polis and deal with all the memories of her father it would drudge up.

During that time, Bellamy tried to be supportive. He did everything right, but Clarke pushed him away, wanting to be alone more often than not. What if she broke him, too?

When she had said she needed to move back home and help put the broken pieces of her mother back together, Bellamy hadn’t protested. He had just said that he hoped she’d put herself back together, too, and that he’d be there for her when she came back. She said she wasn’t sure if she wanted to come back. Bellamy’s mouth had closed, and she could see his jaw locking in place, as though he was scared what he’d say if he allowed himself to speak.

Unable to look Bellamy in the eye, she’d turned and walked away. She’d gone to the airport the next day. It was pointless pushing it off. Bellamy didn’t want to talk to her, and she couldn’t blame him. She wouldn’t want to talk to her either.

Still, a part of her had wanted him to protest, to tell her he loved her and wanted her to come back, that he’d be there waiting for her. But he had gone along with her leaving so well, Clarke was questioning his feelings for her. Had he loved her as much as he always assured her he did? He couldn’t. Not if he could just let Clarke walk out of his life like she had.

Clarke didn’t blame Bellamy. Not one bit. This was her fault.

She made her bed; now she’d have to lay in it.

* * *

The first few weeks back in Polis were the worst. She saw her father’s and Wells’ faces everywhere she went. Every place in Polis, she had a memory with one of them attached to it. It was like someone was digging continuously into a fresh wound. There was no relief from the pain and grief she felt. Everywhere she looked, she was reminded of them.

The pain was the worst at home. Where at one time there had been laughter, teasing, and merrymaking, there was now silence. Abby walked the halls like a ghost. She was back at work, but Clarke could see she was just going through the motions. It was up to Clarke to make sure Abby was eating and taking care of herself.

While her mother was at work, Clarke would go see Thelonious. Sometimes, she’d bring over lunch and just sit with him. Jaha was taking the loss as well as any parent could. He enjoyed Clarke’s company. They’d play chess in silence, sometimes breaking it with a memory of something Wells would have done. It was nice to talk about him.

Wells and her father were gone, but neither of them were forgotten.

After a few weeks, her mother was starting to put color on her face and was eating regularly again. They were talking about normal, mundane things again. Her mother asked when she was going back to work in Arkadia. When Clarke told her, she was thinking about not going back, Abby had seemed appalled and insisted Clarke not uproot her life.

As she sat in her room and pulled up her text messages, she started actually reading through what people were sending her. She’d replied a couple times letting everyone know she was okay. But she hadn’t told them she wasn’t going back, though from some of the later messages, it looked like Bellamy had filled them in.

A twinge of pain lanced through her chest. She missed all her friends dearly, but she especially missed Bellamy. These last few weeks, she’d been grieving her father and Wells, but she’d also been grieving for Bellamy. She didn’t know what felt worse: grieving someone who was gone forever or someone still living.

There were no new texts from Bellamy. Why would there be?

She found a couple from Octavia and Raven asking how she was doing, and she sent a quick reply telling them she was doing okay, considering everything that’s happened. She would need to go back at some point and collect her things from her apartment. The thought sent a pang of unease through her stomach. That was a problem for a different time. She wasn’t ready to do it yet.

She wasn’t ready to say goodbye to Arkadia.

* * *

When she finally could bring herself to go back to Arkadia, she contemplated not telling anyone. It’d be quicker and easier to go in, get her apartment packed up, and get back out to Polis. But she missed her friends and wanted to give them a proper goodbye. So, she texted everyone she wanted to see and set up a lunch or dinner date. Clarke had decided not to send a text to Bellamy even though it killed her not to. She couldn’t open up that wound, not yet. Maybe not ever.

So, she was in her apartment on her last night in town, packing away her kitchen dishes while Octavia labeled the boxes for her. The kitchen was the last room that needed to be packed away, and with any luck, they’d be able to get through it before they got too tired.

“Do you have to go?” Octavia asked as she wrote FRAGILE on the outside of one of the boxes.

Clarke hesitated as she pulled all her cups from her cupboard. “I think so.” She found she was holding a coffee cup Bellamy had given her. He had taken one of her paintings and got it replicated onto her cup. Her fingers traced over the cup delicately as though she were afraid to break it.

“Are you going to say goodbye to Bellamy?” Octavia asked, watching Clarke curiously.

“We said our goodbyes a couple months ago,” Clarke replied, setting the cup aside and continued working.

“Bellamy didn’t,” Octavia said.

There was more anger in her voice than she’d let out the entire time she’d been in Clarke’s apartment. Clarke wondered how weird her position must be. She knew Bellamy was probably hurting a little, but Clarke was Octavia’s best friend. Seeing her brother get hurt by her best friend and vice versa. It was a difficult place to be in.

However, she had no idea what Octavia meant. “Bellamy said goodbye the moment he let me walk out of his apartment that day.” She wondered when it would get easier to talk about, when she would stop replaying their last conversation over and over and over again. When she didn’t regret how she had handled the situation. She felt as though she had been a different person then. 

“He went after you, you know,” Octavia told her. When Clarke turned and looked at Octavia, the puzzlement clear on her face, Octavia continued, “He went to the airport to try and say his last piece and convince you to come back after you’d taken care of your mom. Hell, he was prepared to get on that plane with you if you wanted him to go with. But when he got there, it was too late.”

“If that’s true, why didn’t he call me?” Clarke whispered. He had gone after her, and the thought made her heart feel lighter than it had in a long time.

“He was convinced that if he was meant to have changed your mind, he would have made the flight, or that you would come back to him on your own if you really loved him,” Octavia shrugged her slim shoulders.

Bellamy had cared; he’d just waited for the last moment to make his grand gesture. If Clarke’s life were like a movie, she’d feel rejuvenated and run to him, confess her feelings, apologize for leaving, and they’d live happily ever after. If she had learned one thing in the last couple months, it was that her life was nothing like a movie.

“You look like hell, Clarke,” Octavia blurted out, breaking Clarke’s train of thought. When Clarke frowned in her direction, Octavia continued. “I know you’ve been dealing with some stuff. We all know that, and we’ve all given you the space you needed. Bellamy loves you, and he’s been a mess since you left. He looks just as bad as you do. You’re both miserable but too stubborn to do anything about it. You blame yourselves and think you deserve to feel like shit.”

Clarke wanted to protest, but nothing sounded adequate enough. Octavia hit the nail on the head.

“But you left, Clarke. If there’s any chance at all that you would want to stay here in Arkadia, that you would want to be with Bellamy, you need to go to him. You need to make the first move. You need to make this right.”

Clarke shook her head, “There’s no way he’d forgive me after I just left like that. And I don’t know if I’m ready to leave my mom, yet.”

“Then tell Bellamy that. If he knows you’ll come back to him, it would be different than him thinking you’ll never come back. I’m not trying to tell you how to live your life, Clarke. I just think you and Bellamy have unresolved issues that you both need to work out for either a stronger relationship or a clean break that will help you both move on and stop thinking about the what-ifs. And until you do that, I can’t be here.” With that, Octavia grabbed her purse and walked out of the apartment, leaving Clarke to stare after her.

This was the real reason Octavia had come over, Clarke knew. She was just looking after her brother, so Clarke couldn’t fault her for that. Clarke knew Octavia was right. The only way to move forward was to talk with Bellamy. Glancing back down at the coffee mug, a ball of anxiety coiled deep in her core. A part of her didn’t want to talk to him, but the bigger part of her wanted to at least see him one more time.

Taking a deep breath, she turned on her heel, grabbed her keys and phone from the counter, and hurried out of her apartment complex. Glancing at the time, she figured Bellamy should be home by now, but even if he wasn’t, she would wait for him. It was the least she could do.

Thankfully, Bellamy’s apartment was only a few blocks away, so she could use the walk to figure out what she wanted to say to him. But what did you say to the guy who was the love of your life, who you left behind? Her mother’s pain had caused her to leave, but it was Bellamy’s indifference to whether or not she came back that made her want to stay gone. But if he’d gone after her-if he’d wanted her to stay- then maybe things could be different for them.

Or maybe he’s still indifferent. Maybe their time apart has caused him to feel differently about her. Maybe he was so hurt and upset by her leaving that he wants nothing to do with her anymore. Maybe he’d moved on. Maybe he was  happier without her.

Forcing herself to take a deep breath, Clarke tried to calm her nerves. She didn't know what she wanted out of this. For two months, she’d thought Bellamy hadn’t cared about her enough to entice her to stay. He never reached out to her the entire time she was gone. It was like she never existed anymore to him. But she hadn’t been any better. Hoping he would make the first move, she’d kept her distance.

Not so suddenly, Clarke looked up and found herself to be standing in front of Bellamy’s building. Her legs had stopped walking, and she felt frozen in place. Just through the doors and up a flight of stairs would be Bellamy. A lump formed in her throat, and she had a hard time swallowing around it.

Glancing back down the street, she watched as all his neighbors milled about. She recognized some of the faces, but only a couple. They were all minding their own business, carrying on with their own lives. She wished she could be one of them. She wished for a lot of things but wishing didn’t make things happen.

Steeling herself, she made herself walk forward, through the front door, up the flight of stairs, and down the hallway. All too soon, Clarke was in front of Bellamy’s door, staring up at his apartment number above the peephole. Letting out a shaky breath, she brought her hand up and knocked before she could chicken out. As soon as the knock sounded, she wanted to take it back. A part of her wanted to run and hide. But she kept her feet firmly planted on the ugly, red carpet. She deserved to be here. She was doing the right thing.

Clarke could hear him unlocking the door. In three seconds she’d see Bellamy Blake for the first time in weeks. Two months. It didn’t matter how short a time it was. It had felt like years. Clarke waited on bated breath for the door to swing wide and reveal the person she’d been obsessively thinking about for too long.

Finally, the door opened, and a nervous Clarke was greeted by a surprised and exhausted looking Bellamy. He had deep purple bags under his puffy eyes; his unruly hair had grown longer and more wavy than curly. The scruff on his face looked like he hadn’t shaved in while. He was wearing baggy sweatpants and an old sweatshirt.

For a moment, all the air left her body as she looked upon his misery. The entire time, she’d thought he was doing better than her, that he had made his choice. She thought he might be sad about it, but not like this. She never expected to see her own pain reflected back at her.

“Clarke?” he whispered her name, like if he spoke too loudly, he’d spook her, like she might bolt. But hearing him say her name, hearing his voice… it was like coming home. The feeling washed over her, and she knew with certainty that she was in the right place.

“Hi,” she waved her hand at him a little awkwardly. What could she say?

His surprise was quickly replaced by a stoic, emotionless expression, and it happened so quickly Clarke had whiplash. “What are you doing here?” his voice was louder now, gruffer. Harder. He was putting up a wall, and keeping her at arm’s length, which she completely understood. That was the hard part of all this. 

“I wanted to see you,” she told him honestly. Might as well be open and upfront about it.

“How long will you be in town?” he asked.

Clarke shrugged, “Depends on some things.” She felt a little weird having this conversation out in the hallway where all of Bellamy’s neighbors could hear them. But she wasn’t about to ask him to let her in, and he didn’t seem inclined to invite her inside.

“Like what?”

Clarke glanced up at him. He wanted her to just come out and say it. Fine. “What I did was horrible to you. I was grieving and depressed and struggling. You were so supportive and perfect. But when I said I was leaving and might not come back, you didn’t ask me to stay. You didn’t say anything. I didn’t think you really cared one way or the other where I was.” Clarke couldn’t look at Bellamy. She couldn’t meet his eyes. What must he think of her? “I waited for you at the airport, hoping to see you come running down telling me to stop. To stay.”

“I did go to the airport that day. It’s not like in the movies. I couldn’t get through security without a ticket, and the line was long, and I didn’t make it.” Clarke could hear the regret thick in his voice.

“Why didn’t you call me?” Clarke asked. “Or text?”

Bellamy frowned, “You left, and you’re mad I didn’t call?”

Clarke shook her head, “No, of course not. It was my fault. I left you. I didn’t blame you for not getting a hold of me. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t hope you would have.”

Bellamy sighed and moved to the side, pushing the door wider. Clarke hurried past him into the apartment before he could change his mind. Looking around, the apartment looked exactly the same as it did the last time she had been here, tidy and neat. The blanket she had gotten him for Christmas one year was crumpled up on the couch, as though he’d been cuddled up under it before she got there.

Inhaling deeply, Clarke relished the smell of Bellamy’s apartment. He used an earthy, woodsy scented candle, and she could still smell garlic in the kitchen from some dish he’d made. She didn’t know a person could miss a smell so much, but she had.

“What are you doing here, Clarke?” Bellamy asked as pushed past her and went to sit on the couch.

Not feeling comfortable enough to join him, she stood stiffly on the other side of the coffee table, “Octavia stopped by and talked some sense into me.”

Bellamy grimaced but nodded in understanding. Octavia probably had a similar conversation with her brother at some point. “And?”

“And I realized that we needed to talk about this.”

“What do you want me to say?” Bellamy asked, refusing to look at her.

Clarke was silent for a moment. Finally, she just blurted out, “I missed you Bellamy. So much. I made a hasty, stupid decision I felt was right at the time. My mom needed me, and I thought being back in Polis would help me figure out how to move on, too. Once I got there, I realized Polis wasn’t my home anymore. It’s weird to be able to go to all the places Wells or my dad loved without them. Arkadia’s my home now. Bellamy, you’re home. I’m sorry it took me so long to figure it out. I am so sorry.” Tears welled up in her eyes thinking about how much she missed him, how much she had hurt him.

Bellamy looked up at her, his eyes scrutinizing her as though he was trying to figure out if she was telling the truth. “I missed you, too,” he finally said.

She let out a shaky breath as she walked closer to him, dropping to her knees in front of Bellamy, but not touching him, “Bellamy, is there any way you can forgive me?”

Bellamy was quiet for so long, Clarke was scared he was going to tell her to go to hell. But he finally asked, “Are you going to be staying in Arkadia?”

“That depends on your answer,” Clarke told him honestly.

Bellamy leaned forward and cupped Clarke’s face between his hands. Bringing his lips down to meet Clarke’s, his kiss was not gentle. It was needy, urgent, as though he wanted to make up for all the time they had lost. The kiss was all teeth and tongue and ragged breaths. When Bellamy pulled back, it was only long enough so that he could slide off the couch and pull Clarke into him, wrapping his arms around her, nestling his head into the crook of her neck. Clarke wanted to cry, her heart wanted to sing.

“Stay,” Bellamy said into her neck. “Stay in Arkadia. With me.”

A smile tugged at the corners of Clarke’s lips, “I will.”

Clarke didn’t know how long they went on hugging, but when they pulled back, she said, “Bellamy, I am so sorry for everything. I’m sorry I left. I’m sorry I didn’t talk about it more before I left. I’m sorry I’ve been such a mess.”

Bellamy tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, “I’m sorry I just let you go. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you exactly how I felt the day you told me. I’m sorry I never tried contacting you.”

“Can we start over?” Clarke asked.

“How about we just pick up where we left off before you left?” Bellamy suggested.

“I like that better,” Clarke agreed and pulled Bellamy back in for a hug. She just needed to feel him, to know this was real.

When she came back to Arkadia to grab her stuff, she never thought she’d decide to stay. She never thought she’d reconcile with Bellamy even if it was what she wanted more than anything. It was a good thing Octavia was a meddler.

“We have a couple problems,” Clarke said after several moments.

Bellamy leaned back, frowning, “What are they?”

“Well, I do have to go back to Polis tomorrow. Long enough to wrap up everything in Polis and say goodbye to my mom. And because I wasn’t expecting to rekindle anything with you, I never renewed my lease at my apartment. I have to have all my stuff out by tomorrow.” She grimaced, wondering what Bellamy would say.

Finally, he laughed, deep and loud. It made Clarke smile. It had been months since she heard it, and she’d almost forgotten what it sounded like. “Those are problems we can deal with,” he assured her with that knowing smirk that drove Clarke crazy.

* * *

“So, let me get this straight,” Abby Griffin said as she drove back to the Griffin house. “You went to Arkadia single and heartbroken. But now you’re moving in with your boyfriend whom you’re happily in a relationship with now?”

Clarke nodded her head, “Yup. That about sums up how the last two days went.”

“And you brought him with you now to meet me?” Abby asked as she glanced in the rearview mirror at said boyfriend.

Bellamy waved sheepishly back at her.

“Right again. I figure if Bellamy and I are going to move forward and make this work, I need to include him on more things, and I thought it’d be good for you to meet the boy I’ve been in love with and whom I’ll be moving in with. Seemed right,” Clarke told her mother.

“I appreciate your thoughtfulness,” Abby teased. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Bellamy. Clarke’s told me much about you.”

“It’s nice to meet you, too,” Bellamy agreed.

Clarke wanted to giggle. After everything that had happened, it was nice to see them doing something so normal. She wished Bellamy had been able to meet her father; they would have gotten along pretty well. The thought saddened her, and Abby reached over to squeeze her daughter’s hand, seemingly thinking the same thing.

“The next time you’re in Arkadia, Mom, we’ll introduce you to Octavia, Bellamy’s sister. I think you’ll like her,” Clarke looked back at Bellamy and exchanged a smile. “She’s a meddler. Just like you.”

“Hey now,” Abby feigned offense, “I do it out of love.”

“That’s what she says, too,” Bellamy interjected.

As Abby pulled the car into the driveway, Clarke has told Bellamy about how the Jaha’s lived down the street and some memories she had of Wells as kids. Getting out of the car, they grabbed the luggage and hauled it into the house. The Griffins live in the nicest part of Polis with a big three story house with a wrap around porch. It’s the nicest house Bellamy’s ever seen. He’s blown away as Clarke leads him up to her room.

She left him to unwind while she went back downstairs. Finding her mom in the kitchen, Clarke took a seat at the breakfast counter and watched as her mom poured herself a glass of water. “You’re going to be okay without me if I go back, right?” Clarke asked her mother seriously. She needed to know her mom will be alright.

Abby laughed, “Honey, yes. I know I’ve been kind of a mess lately. You know better than anyone how I feel. But I will be okay. It just takes some time. I appreciate you coming back to help me. More than you know, but you can’t put your life on hold for me.”

“I just worry about you,” Clarke told her.

“That is not your job. I’m your mother. It’s my job to worry about you. Now stop. You’re going back to Arkadia and living with a boy! Your mom has plenty of friends here that will help take care of her. Besides, I need to help Thelonious grieve his son. So, I’ll be plenty busy.” Abby rounded the counter to pull Clarke in for a hug. “I’m proud of you Clarke. I’m glad you made things work with Bellamy.”

“Thanks, mom. Me, too.”

Clarke hurried back up to her room to Bellamy. She found him sprawled out on her bed, the luggage thrown into a corner. Clarke smiled before she crawled onto the bed and nestled herself against him.  Bellamy instinctively wrapped his arm around her, and Clarke thought this was what pure contentment felt like.

Closing her eyes, Clarke fell asleep nestled against Bellamy’s side, her head on his shoulder. Bellamy’s hand held her to him, his chin resting against her forehead. Their hands clasped together on Bellamy’s chest. Before Clarke drifted off to dreamland, she sent up a silent prayer to whoever might be listening to let this feeling last forever.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you all enjoyed this! 
> 
> If you could take a moment of your time and let me know what you think, I'd greatly appreciate it! Kudos and subscriptions are my writing fuel!


End file.
